Cadbury creme eggs are dumb. Those disgusting orbs of sugary gunk are what I imagine an adult Augustus Gloop binges on during cold nights when he realizes no one loves him.

The festive Cadbury eggs are an integral part of modern Easter, which should just be named "Sunshine Halloween." I want to be fair to those members of one of the world's great faiths AND to secular fatties. There is Easter, the Holy Day, and "Easter", which is just another time of the year when children and lonely people are allowed by society to consume mass quantities of foods that do nothing but but the “F” in FUPA.

The over-commercialization of Easter doesn’t take away from Easter’s meaning, because Easter already has plenty of meaning for billions of people. But Easter shouldn’t be called Easter. This springtime ritual should be divided into two holidays – one for Christians, and one for cocoa junkies. We shouldn’t allow a religious holiday to be hijacked and used as a propaganda tool by the powerful choco-industrial complex.

Every spring, there should just be a day called “Sunshine Halloween.”

Also: there can be also be regular ol' Christian Easter. Because what we now call Easter is just Halloween: a form of emotional blackmail where business manipulates tykes into demanding treats from parents who give in and hope the brats eventually crash for a few hours. Of course, both Easter and Halloween involve costumes. 

There are five main differences between Easter and Halloween:

1.  Easter is in the spring, Halloween is in fall.

2. Easter happens during the day. Halloween is at night.

3. You can dress up like the devil for Halloween. But you really can’t do that on Easter Sunday. 

4.  Easter’s colors are pastel blue and pink. Halloween’s colors are bat black and jugular spurt.

5. Little kids have to work for their candy on Halloween. Candy is delivered to little kids by a magical rat with floppy ears.

Easter weekend is a holiday of tremendous religious importance to Christians all around the world.  But you wouldn’t know that walking down the aisles of any drug store in America. On those shelves are a bizarre collection of confections designed to look like eggs and bunny rabbits.  I was raised Catholic, but I wouldn’t call myself a religious man. I call the day before Good Friday The Best Parts of Jesus Christ Superstar Thursday. The Passion of the Christ was a really messed up movie about a nice man being horribly tortured to death. 

Also, as a child, I couldn’t connect the Easter Mass to the tacky public celebration at school and on television and at the mall. Easter egg hunts are fun and taught me many valuable lessons about capitalism as I competed with my younger brother to find as many dyed ovals of bird protein as I could. But what did that have to do with the resurrection of a carpenter executed in Rome thousands of years ago? For many Christians, their entire belief system orbits around this day, when their savior returns from the dead and proves his provenance. It is deeply significant to the religious.

That is fine. The right to worship who you want, when you want, for whatever reason you want is as American as deep-fried twinkies, comment section trolls, and Predator drones. I’d like to see someone try to tell me I can’t worship Cthullu, ancient squid monster of doom. But it seems a little disrespectful to those who genuinely treasure Easter for it to be turned into Halloween without the costumes or, frankly, the effort.

There are those, I’m sure, who will point out that Easter, like Christmas, incorporates certain pagan religious elements. After all, the Christmas tree is a symbol of… elf… stuff. But I don’t recall the pagans being money-hungry robber barons. Chances are, pagans are probably put off by money-grubbing. Why mix everything up? There are enough days in the year. The pagans should probably be encouraged to celebrate Naked Outdoor Dance Orgy Day every spring.

But Easter should just be renamed “Sunshine Halloween,” because it’s just another day out of the year where sticky gobs of sucrose are shoveled into children the way coal is heaved into a fiery furnace.  

While we're at it, can we get rid of the friggin' Easter Bunny? As a kid, I was deeply disturbed by this colorful monster. I once woke up in a cold sweat the night before Easter, convinced that a large demon rabbit was watching me sleep.

At least Santa Claus doesn’t tiptoe into your bedroom.

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